


The Honey Bee Theories

by queentangerine



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - High School, Cute, Fluff, M/M, Pining Dean, Slow Build, Weddings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-29
Updated: 2015-06-06
Packaged: 2018-04-01 07:08:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 16,321
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4010566
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/queentangerine/pseuds/queentangerine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Dean works for Ellen's catering company, and over the years continuously runs into Cas at all of his many (many) siblings' wedding receptions. But Cas, that stupidly cute kid with the blue eyes and honey bee cuff links, just won't let Dean get away with sneaking food from the buffet. Unless, of course, he shares.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Initially inspired by a [prompt](http://susie1x1.tumblr.com/post/100910897198/aus-to-consider) I came across on tumblr.  
>  _“I crashed your family member's wedding for the free food but hi there."_  
>  And then I just _ran_ with it.

Dean waited until the DJ played the Macarena, because even though horrendously choreographed line dancing was without a doubt the most repulsive kind of dancing, it inexplicably had the power to get the largest percentage of people off their asses and onto the dance floor. The theory was proven, without fail, at every single one of these events he’d been to since he started working these gigs a year ago. Tonight, Michael Novak’s wedding reception, was no exception.

There it was, the holy grail of bad music, and while it threatened to make his ears bleed, it was the perfect distraction. Everyone was too busy shuffling in sync and flapping their arms around like idiots, leaving the tables unattended and the buffet at the back of the hall completely unguarded. 

A twenty foot long table, covered in a pretty white table cloth beneath mountains of food that made his mouth water from just a glance. Buffet-style catering courtesy of Ellen Harvelle’s Roadhouse Catering, the best food he’d ever had the pleasure of tasting. Literally the only food on earth that beat her cooking was his mother’s homemade peach pie, and his mom wholeheartedly agreed: no one could surpass Ellen. 

Thank god he only worked one or two of these parties a month or he’d be five hundred pounds.

There was a platter of mini cheeseburgers strategically placed (by him) at the end of the table, almost completely untouched and it’d been calling his name all evening.

The guests were all busy dancing, and this was his chance, now or never, and so-freaking-what if the wait staff technically wasn’t allowed to eat the food. 

So he slinked over, all inconspicuous like, as if he was just there to check up that everything was okay, just doing his job, then he glanced around giving the room a once over, and making sure Ellen wasn’t watching (because she knew his MO, but she as nowhere to be found).

He reached for a mini burger, shoved the entire thing into his mouth, and - 

“Good god they’re even better than last time.” And good thing he wasn’t actually talking to anyone, because the words were indecipherable through his chewing.

“You know,” came a voice from his right, “the food is supposed to be for the guests."

Dean jumped, startled, and looked over to find the source. It was dark, all the nearby lights were all directed at the food, and he’d been so worried about being caught by Ellen that he didn’t even notice the kid sitting and leaning against the wall just a few feet away. Stupid, careless. 

Dean tried to size him up. The deep voice made him sound older but they looked to be about the same age. And the kid didn’t appear angry, he looked… annoyed and uncomfortable but not in any way that seemed related to Dean’s actions. Just something about sitting alone in dark corner, in stiff, new clothes (because Dean could clearly see the the distinct sort of creases of perfectly folded store items). Nice slacks, fitted white button down, and a royal blue tie to match his eyes. There was gel in his hair that couldn’t quite keep it from sticking up, and he was absentmindedly tugging on a thread coming loose from the back of the tie and clearly, he didn’t want to be there. And that, Dean thought, would likely keep him out of trouble.

So Dean opted for a charming, innocent smile. “Well hello to you, too."

The kid stood up, almost at eye level with Dean, but he said nothing, just started at him with what Dean was hoping was only mock-disapproval. So Dean just kept talking, because that was the sort of thing he did best.

“ _You_ should know that this is now the dance portion of the evening, and you’re supposed to be out there ‘taking it back now’ and not loitering around the buffet."

The kid grimaced and Dean grinned. The score was now one-one. He congratulated himself with another mini burger, licking the grease obnoxiously off his fingers.

“You have my permission to punch me in the face if I ever willingly join in one of those mad group seizures."

Dean nearly choked on his burger and his laugh came out as more of a coughing fit, because that was not at all the response he’d been expecting. A joke, yes, but said with enough sincerity that it took his brain a couple extra seconds to recognize it as such.

The kid just waited patiently, watching Dean as he got his breathing back to normal and swallowed his food, and Dean, who was usually quick on his feet and loose with the comebacks, was at a loss.

“Uhh…"

“If you hand me a burger I won’t tell anyone you’re stealing food.” He held out a hand expectantly and raised an eyebrow.

Dean smiled but didn’t move. “You wouldn’t tell on me."

“Do you want to test that theory?"

Dean did not. The kid looked harmless enough, if a little out of place, but he spoke with confidence.

Plus, no harm in sharing, plenty to go around, and it would be just slightly less suspicious than standing there on his own. Dean’s waiter attire was a dead giveaway.

“Well,” Dean said as he passed him a couple burgers, “sharing _is_ caring.” Or at least that’s what he’d always told his little brother Sammy when they were younger, but his motives had always been selfish. Maybe they still were.

The kid snorted. “Whatever you say.” And when he moved to grab the burger, Dean noticed the cuff links. Little golden honey bees.

Dean raised his eyebrow in question, but the kid just shrugged and took the food.

Dean ate another one himself, and watched as the kid took a bite, look of pure bliss spreading across his face and eyes fluttering closed as he chewed. It was adorable.

“These make me very happy,” he said, smiling at Dean, who smiled right back.

“You really like burgers."

“They’re my favorite. But I don’t eat them often."

“That’s a shame, but you have good taste. And Ellen’s are - "

A flash of red hair appeared at his side along with a sharp smack on his shoulder as Charlie, fellow waitress and best friend, appeared out of nowhere.

“And speaking of that devil,” she said, “she can see you eating the food and she’s pissed."

“Damn it. Not again."

“Let’s go.” 

Charlie started dragging him off so he waved goodbye to the kid, who was _laughing_ at him, so he winked and grabbed a final burger for the road. If he was going to be yelled at, he was going to make it well worth it. 

 

v/\v/\v/\v/\v/\v/\v/\v

 

He’d started working for Ellen a year ago but he’d known her his whole life. They were neighbors, she was his mom’s best friend, and he and his brother Sammy had grown up trying not to get their asses kicked by her daughter Jo. They failed, needless to say, because she may be tiny but she was a little _crazy_ and a lot  _too smart for her own good_. And for the good of others, apparently, but they became good friends anyway. 

Jo worked for Ellen too, because she wasn't given a choice, whereas Dean practically had to beg for the job as soon as he turned sixteen. He wanted the cash, he wanted to work with is friends, but mostly he wanted the food. Ellen didn’t quite trust him around it, with good reason, but he could be polite when he needed to be, and he knew his way around a kitchen.

It was half a miracle he’d made it a year so far without getting fired. He couldn’t even be mad if she did decide to can him; he deserved it. 

So she caught him at the Novak wedding. She didn’t catch him at the bat mitzvah the month before, or the Johnson family reunion a few weeks before that. He’d grown overconfident, he let himself slip up, and so Ellen saw him, and so did bee boy. But he’d learned his lesson, to be more careful next time, and not to let cute boys (wait, what?) distract him. 

But whatever. It was one gig, and it was over. The next month they catered some guy’s 90th birthday and he successfully snuck two mini burgers and an entire slice of apple pie without anyone noticing. Except Charlie, but she just rolled her eyes and demanded a bite of the pie. (And for the record, he believed he was _entitled_ to the pie, he did bake it, after all.) 

Ellen was none the wiser and Dean all but forgotten about the incident at the Novak wedding, except that he hadn’t. Every time he ate or so much as got a whiff of Ellen’s burgers that kid with the messy hair and bright blue eyes would pop into his head. He never got the chance to thank him for playing along. After Ellen had finished scolding him he went back to ‘apologize’ (as per her request) but couldn’t find him anywhere.

So about six months passed, the blue of the kid’s eyes had been exaggerated beyond belief in his imagination, and he’d eaten more burgers than he cared to keep track of. 

It was nearing the end of fall, which also happened to mark the end of the busy wedding season for Ellen’s catering, and Ellen booked him to work the last big wedding of the year. 

He had a new plan for sneaking food, because Ellen had officially figured out the line dancing ploy, so after he helped set up the buffet and made the rounds of the tables, he waited till the speeches were over and there was music playing, and gave Charlie the signal. 

(It was actually pretty easy to get Charlie involved, because she was pretty much down for anything that could be in some way, shape, or form construed as a quest. And more importantly he’d promised he’d go LARPing with her. Jokes on her though, cause he would have went regardless.)

Cue Operation Let Me Eat Cake (which of course had absolutely nothing to do with cake, specifically), where Charlie as the diversion instead of shitty music.

Dean staked out the buffet until the traffic had died down and there was just one guy left, starting at an empty platter like he could refill it with just sheer will. Dean waited, and he waited, but the guy wasn’t budging and Charlie’s diversion wouldn’t last forever and he had to make his move. 

He started creeping over and then the guy shifted and the light caught a glint of something on his wrists, and -

Now, Dean was not exactly known for his attention to detail, so the fact that this was another Novak wedding had escaped him, or maybe he just didn't make the connection, because _maybe_ Ellen mentioned the name and he could have pieced it together, but it basically amounts to it probably being his own fault for being caught off guard.

But he would recognize those silly honey bee cuff links anywhere. (And for the record, by silly he means something maybe more along the lines of _adorably ridiculous_ , but what was this kid twelve?) 

But this meant, of course, that the buffet was officially fair game, even with the kid standing there.

So he walked up next to him, leaned over so he’d be heard over the music and simply said, “Hi there."

The kid looked over at him, confused, (and wow Dean had _not_  actually exaggerated the blue of his eyes) and then recognition flickered across his face and he frowned. Not exactly the reaction Dean was hoping for, but - 

“There aren’t any burgers left."

Oh. The empty platter. But Dean just smirked. “Is that so?"

The kid’s frown deepened and he pointed to the empty plate like he couldn’t believe how dumb Dean was being when the evidence was right under his nose.

“Well it’s lucky I found you then,” Dean said as he walked around the other side of the table, shifted around some plates, and then produced a small one with a lid. 

The kid watched with rapt attention as he lifted the lid to reveal a total of six mini burgers. 

“I’d have set more aside if I knew I’d be sharing."

The kid looked up from the plate to catch Dean’s eye and grinned. “Technically, they’re not yours to share. If anything they’re _mine_ to share, and I will graciously allow you three of them.” He reached out and stole the plate from him and managed to eat a burger before Dean even realized what was happening.

“Whoa. Hey. Rude. I’m the one saving you here, okay? You were staring at an empty plate like it was personally responsible for ruining your night."

“It was personally responsible,” he said through a mouthful. "Not that the night started off great in the first place, but now it’s looking up.” He started on a second burger. “Mmm. Even better than I remembered."

Dean rolled his eyes. “ _You’re welcome_.” And he grabbed one for himself so he’d at least get something before the kid wolfed them all down. 

“I’m Dean, by the way."

“I know. You have a name tag."

“Oh, right." 

“Castiel.” And Dean must have made a face, because after a pause he added, “Or Cas, if you prefer."

Dean nodded. “Nice to officially meet you."

“Likewise."

They ate the rest of the burgers in silence, no need to spoil the snack with conversation, but they both stuck around after they were gone. But silence isn’t something Dean knows how to handle when there’s nothing else to do, though it didn’t seem to bother Cas, and after a few more bites from random dishes, Dean broke.

“So. Two weddings in one year. Thought I was the only one constantly at these things, but I'm at least get paid for it."

Cas groaned and threw his hands up, exasperated, and went and sat down against the nearby wall, knees bent up and head in his hands. Just leaving Dean there, once again at a loss for words, because all of Cas’s responses fly in from way out of left field. 

“Sorry.” Came his muffled response. Then he look back up and Dean. "That was dramatic. But this is my life now.” He waved vaguely at the the reception hall.

Dean went over and took a seat next to him. “Weddings?"

“Yes. I have five hundred siblings and cousins."

“Are we not done being overdramatic?"

Cas glared him and continued. “It would take the entire night for me to count them all, and I would never be confident that I didn’t leave someone out. In the next five or so years, I will attend more weddings than anyone should have to in an entire lifetime."

Dean opened his mouth to respond, but Cas must’ve read his mind because - 

“Doesn’t count if you’re being paid to work the weddings, Dean, so don’t."

“Fine. But - "

“No."

“Alright, alright.” Dean reached over to the table and pulled down a plate of cookies, offering one to Cas.

“Thanks. And sorry. I’m being horrible."

“You’re not being horrible."

He laughed. “Well I’m _thinking_ some pretty horrible things, but outwardly I’m practicing restraint."

“Well good on you. Personally, I haven’t mastered that skill. I’ll listen though, no judgment."

“I appreciate the offer, but the last thing I want to do is give you a reason to hate me."

So Dean changed the subject and they talked about stupid things for a while, steadily making their way through the cookies, until there was only one left, and Cas felt the need to ask -  

“Shouldn’t you be working?"

“Yeah, whatever."

And then with unfairly perfect timing, Jo came out of nowhere. “Yes, you should be. Mom saw you eating the food again."

“Shit. Do me a favor and - "

“No way. Not putting myself in the way of her wrath for you, Dean.” She looked over at Cas. “He's not worth it."

Cas laughed, and even though Dean wasn’t thrilled to be in trouble again, he was glad to be leaving Cas in a better mood than he’d found him. 

“Well, until next time, I suppose. If I survive this. See ya, Cas." 

He tried to do a cute half wave, half salute as he backed away, but Jo tugged his arm, nearly knocking him over and it didn’t come nearly as smooth as he’d intended. 

 

v/\v/\v/\v/\v/\v/\v/\v

 

So then it became a _thing,_ apparently. Ever since Cas implied that there would be a lot of family gatherings in the future, Dean started to look forward to them. He got excited every time Ellen called to see if he was free to work, and was disappointed whenever it wasn’t a Novak related event. 

He’d only met the kid twice, sure, but it was nice to have a willing partner in his food stealing crimes. He’d still do it anyway, but it was more fun this way. So much fun, in fact, that even a few months after he’d last see him, he found himself laughing about something funny Cas had said. In public, like an idiot, when Sam had made him drive him to the dollar store for supplies for some school project. Dean was trailing behind him down the aisles, and then he saw it. 

A little plastic honey bee toy, about the size of the pink eraser that Sam was now throwing at him to add to the basket. Stupid little cartoony honey bee with black wings and two big blue dots painted on to pass as eyes, and somehow it managed to look like Cas. If that was possible, and probably not, but that’s already where Dean’s head was so it was easy to make the leap.

It was a dollar. Not even a dollar, but  _ninety-eight freaking cents_ , and just shut up already it was cute. He decided not to think about it and tossed it to the basket before moving on, and thankfully Sam was too focused on finding his own dollar store treasures to notice. It’d sit on his desk a few weeks and then he’d probably lose it. Whatever. 

He threw it behind a stack of books and forgot about it. (Kind of. Not really.)

When Ellen called him about the next Novak wedding, Dean was ready. He might have known what he was getting into, but it still caught him by surprise. It wasn’t a wedding at all this time, but a party celebrating something or other for a group of the smaller Novaks, and there were children running around _everywhere_. It was distracting, and he sort of accidentally ambushed Cas as he was leaving the washroom and Dean was entering. They nearly collided, but Cas was pretty cool, calm, and collected, while Dean kind of spazzed out.  

Cas greeted him with, “Oh no, not you again,” but he was smiling.

And then later they met up once again by the buffet, and before Dean even had the chance to grab himself any food Cas bombarded him, with “Please, you have to talk to me so _they_  can’t."

“They?"

“Literally everyone else. If one more person asks me about my plans for college I will not be responsible for my actions. It’s a minefield of nosy relatives out there."

“College?” Dean hadn’t yet determined how old Cas was

“You’re not allowed to ask either!” And yet, Cas ranted about his woes anyway, the whole  _having no clue what to do with your life_  spiel, just stared his first year of college in the fall with an undeclared major. Maybe he'd teach, but small children freaked him out (he was really not enjoying this party), high school was a terrible experience he did not want to revisit, nor was he thrilled with the extra years of school it would take to teach at a higher level.

He just didn’t want to follow in the family footsteps, where for almost all of them, philanthropy was key but only ( _only_ ) if they could get rich in the process. For Cas, helping was good, hypocrisy bad.

“What I want is not what they want. You know?"

Dean kind of got it, kind of didn’t. He was expected to take over his dad’s garage one day, and he liked cars so why not.  

“But if you could do anything?"

“I... have no idea."

“Not a great feeling is it?"

“Thanks for the downer, Cas."

“This has been my whole day, I’m just trying to give you some insight."

“But I’m supposed to be distracting you, aren’t I?” He smiled and went for another mini burger, handing one to Cas as well. “So how about - oh no, incoming. Hide me.” He tried to duck behind a confused Cas, but it was no use.

“Dean!"

“Hey, Jo,” he said, peeking from behind Cas’s shoulder.

“Caught you red handed. Again. What is wrong with you."

He stuffed the rest of the burger into his mouth, and tried to say _I don’t know what you’re talking about_ , but Jo just made face at him.

“Gross. My mother wants to see you."

“Of course she does. Why you always turning me in, Jo?” He swallowed his mouthful. “Well, later, Cas."

But Cas was already backing away, wide eyed and worried, looking past Dean at what he assumed could only be another too-curious relative swooping in. Dean would save him if he could, but Jo was right there, glaring and tapping her foot impatiently, and Dean was man enough to admit he was afraid of her. 

It was after that incident that Dean noticed a pattern. Ellen only ever caught him sneaking food at Novak events. He decided to blame Cas.

So when he saw Cas for the fourth time, at Hester’s wedding reception, he snuck up behind him where he was standing by the buffet (waiting for him, Dean hoped) and announced, “I’m blaming you, Cas."

“Excuse me?"

“If Ellen fires me. It’s your fault."

“I fail to see how."

“You keep telling yourself that."

Cas rolled his eyes and watched, amused, as Dean shuffled around the table and gathered a couple of small hidden plates, handing a couple to Cas for safekeeping. 

“But it’s okay. I’ve got a new plan. Let’s go."

“What? Where?” But Dean had already started walking, leaving him with no choice but to follow. 

They weaved around tables until they reached the opposite side of the hall, still far from the dance floor and far from the kitchen where Ellen would be, to where there were a couple of empty tables, with table cloths that reached almost down to the floor. 

Dean chose the farthest table, lifted the side of the cloth that was facing the wall and pinned it up to allow for some light beneath the table, set the food down on the floor and crawled under.

“I’m not sitting under a table, Dean."

“Yes you are. Get down here." 

“No. And please explain yourself."

He stuck his head back out to say, “I considered just sitting at the table, you know, the whole _hiding in plain sight_ thing? But Jo would never let me get away with that."

No response, so Dean ducked back under the table.

“Cas! Come on! I will eat all of these burgers without you."

And that, apparently, was all it took for Cas to get off his high horse and sink (literally and figuratively) to Dean’s level.

“I can’t believe you’re making me do this."

“ _I’m_ not making you do anything.” He smirked and slid a plate towards Cas. “You’ll willingly do anything for one of these burgers."

“I beg you not to test that theory any further."

“We’ll see. No promises."

The ate for a couple minutes, and then - 

“Wait, _why_ are we under a table?"

“Because, Cas. This way I won’t get in trouble, and you won’t have to deal with any relatives."

“Oh.” His eyes widened, then he nodded. “Good plan."

It was a curious, careful game. There were a lot of rules that they made up as they went along and neither of them fully understood all of it at the same time. It was exciting, it was a little stressful, it was kind of really great, and there seemed to be an unspoken agreement to keep their newfound friendship within the confines of the ‘chance’ meetings. Except after that third one Dean made a pact with himself that he would never miss one, and he thought maybe Cas expected him to always be there, because he stopped looking surprised to see him. 

It was weird but it worked, and Dean wouldn’t have had it any other way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact, catering angle came from a favorite book of mine from middle school (The Truth About Forever, Sarah Dessen).


	2. Chapter 2

After Dean graduated high school he started attending the college in the next town over, majoring in mechanical engineering with a minor in business. Even though it was only about thirty minutes away (without traffic), his mom insisted that he live in the dorms because she wanted him to have the  _full college experience_  and his dad thought that living away from home would  _force him to grow up_. He was offended by the accusation, but he was grateful for the result, because classes were tough and he was glad he didn’t have to deal with a daily commute. 

He had his own car and was still close enough to home that he could visit whenever he wanted. To work when Ellen needed him, to hang out with friends, to give Sam hell. It was a good arrangement. 

And it meant that he didn’t have to give up his meetings with Cas, who was attending school a couple hours away, but was home for every wedding and family event. He was forbidden to miss them, apparently.

As soon as Dean showed up he’d scout the hall until he found blue eye or gold honey bees. Everything he learned about Cas over then next few years he learned in fifteen or twenty minute vignettes, with each event. It was enough time for Dean to get to get to know him (sort of), but it was always too quick, and left Dean wanting more, eagerly awaiting the next chance he’d get to fill in all the blanks.

Obviously he already knew that Cas loved bees, but at Zach's wedding he learned that Cas loved  _honey_  as well, and wished to have his own hive one day, to make his own. Dean informed him that he personally would never, even on pain of death, stick his hand into a bucket of bees, and Cas in turn informed him that that was of course  _not_  how it worked.  _Close  enough_ , Dean insisted.

He learned that Cas was (probably) fluent in Italian, because he could read it just fine, although he had no one to converse with.

And Hael’s rehearsal dinner he learned that Cas harbored an intense dislike for his roommate, Crowley, but he tolerated him because wasn’t sure what he would do without his ability to get  _literally anything_  past the RAs. He also learned that the preparations for this particular wedding had overshadowed his birthday the week before. 

So Dean though maybe he would surprise him at the wedding the next night. 

He met Cas at the buffet table with a big grin, a  _happy birthday,_  and a slice of honey pie that he’d baked that morning.

Cas took the plate and stared at it. “Did you… make this for me?"

“Um, Ellen was asking for dessert suggestions, and I know you like honey, so… honey pie.” Dean was a coward. He had in fact made it himself and snuck it in past her.

But Cas broke out in a huge grin, so before letting the brightness of it blind him, and before  _completely_  chickening out (because he knew he’d regret it), Dean took a deep breath and added, “Oh, and I almost forgot."

From his pocket he produced that little dollar store honey bee toy that he'd fashioned into a cake topper. For a year he'd managed not to lose it and it sat on his desk mocking him for being such a sap. He reached over and stuck it in the pie, and - 

"Little cheesy, I know, but - "

“It’s perfect,” Cas said. “Thank you, Dean.” And he genuinely seemed to mean it.

Later, once Cas had eaten the pie, he confessed, ”I know cake is traditional for birthdays, but I’m glad you went with pie. Much better."

To which Dean couldn’t help but reply, “A man after my own heart.”

And Cas  _might_  have blushed just a little when Dean said it, but it was rather dark in the hall they were hiding in, so it was too hard to tell for sure.

The next time he saw him, at Hael's reception, he finally got the rest of Cas’s wedding rant.

“It’s just,  _it’s started_ , you know? And then soon enough they’ll all expect it to be my turn."

“But you’re only twenty! Plenty of time to worry about that later."

“You would  _think_ , but my family is very religious. It’s common and expected to marry young. The farthest anyone has made it was twenty-five. Which was Rachel, and my mother thought it was too long to wait."

“And you don’t agree with their philosophy."

"The point of life is not to find a partner and procreate.The point of life is to live."

"But what if finding a partner and procreating  _is_  your idea of living?"

Cas looked like he wanted to smite him so he he held his hands up in defense. “Whoa, just playing devil’s advocate, because I like being difficult and you’re cute when your annoyed, but please don’t kill me, I value my life."

Okay so he didn’t quite mean to say that one thing, but it was true, and now he was just trying to play it cool, but, apparently he needn’t have worried. Cas didn’t acknowledge the comment, just looked at him, mulling something over, then said seriously -  

“I  _won’t_  kill you, but only because you seem to agree with me."

“Sure, for the most part."

“Is this you continuing to be difficult?"

“Uh.. not really.” He shrugged. “It’s a nice idea. Getting married, eventually. If that’s what you want to do, of course."

Cas sighed. “I’m not against the idea of  _forever_ , I just think they’re are better ways to say it." 

He was tempted to ask what but the conversation had already veered into very personal territory and the fact that it wasn’t freaking him out was freaking him out. He’d had this conversation once, with Charlie, but it was different with a best friend that he’d known for years and years. Not someone he’s seen maybe six times in three.

“I’ve been testing a theory,” Cas said. “I haven’t brought a date to any wedding, and while so far my mother hasn’t said anything, if there’s no development by graduation...” Then he laughed. “Although bringing a date might exacerbate the problem."

And Dean couldn’t help his curiosity. “How so?"

“That’s a story for another time."

And at Luc’s wedding, he learned that Cas liked testing those kinds of theories (although Dean already had a theory of his own that this was the case) _._

“Technically, they’re  _hypotheses_ ,” Cas told him, “but the word doesn’t sound as nice in general conversation, so forgive me for electing to use the colloquialism."

“Dude, I wouldn’t even have known if you didn’t point it out.”

“I would still rather be forthcoming about inaccuracies, in case new information comes to light in the future."

“I see college has been treating you well."

“It has. Absolutely loving my linguistics class."

“They make you eat a couple of dictionaries?"

Cas ignored him. "My newest theory is one that I really don’t ever want proof of, but I’m pretty sure that I’m right anyway. It's a  _too much information_  situation."

“Hey that rhymes."

“ _Dean_."

“Sorry. Continue."

“Luc’s mostly just getting married because he wants to have sex."

Not what Dean was expecting. “And how are you so sure he hasn’t already?"

“I”m not, but Gabriel is. Apparently it’s been discussed, because Luc walked in on him and his girlfriend in some variety of compromising position. I didn’t ask for details."

There was a loud burst of laughter from somewhere behind them, and apparently they were not as hidden as they thought. This was the wedding that Dean (regrettably) first got hands on experience with another member of the infinite Novak clan.

“Boy, do I have ridiculously good timing."

“Oh no.” Cas bent forward, head in his hands. “Hello, Gabriel."

“Cassie. And you must be Dean. I’ve heard a lot about you."

“Ignore him, Dean, he’s heard nothing."

“Liar.” And Gabriel sat down on the floor in front of them, demanding attention.

“Stop pretending you hate me, Castiel, we all know I’m the only Novak you like."

“Not true. I like Anna."

“Okay so that makes two out of, what, four hundred?"

“Sounds about right."

“But Cas is correct, Deano. Luc likes to  _pretend_  he’s rebellious, but only Cas and I fit the bill. In general, but also,” he wiggled his eyebrows suggestively, “in this particular instance, if you catch my drift."

Dean glanced over at Cas for confirmation and he just shrugged. “Why deny yourself life’s pleasures for no other reason than a misplaced superiority complex?"

Dean open his mouth and then closed it, then tried again. “Well, if you put it that way."

Gabe leaned forward. “Not a prude, are you Dean?” 

“No."

“Can you please leave now, Gabriel?"

He listened, standing reluctantly. “Hey, I was just - "

“Don’t.” And with a laugh he was gone.

“I apologize for that."

“Nah, don’t worry about it."

“He has a tendency to be obnoxious."

“You're his little brother, kind of his job. Which I understand well, just ask Sammy."

And then, of course, Dean couldn’t help but launch into a series of stories of how he’d embarrassed Sammy over the years. His big brother hall of fame, and he strategically glossed over or exaggerated all the ones that backfired (when Sam got the upper hand) even thought they  _might_  have outnumbered the ones that actually worked. 

He forgot what event it was, but at some point he gave in and asked about the cuff links, kind of teasing, but all he got was a mischievous grin and, "Half the fun is knowing my mother would disown me if she noticed them. Well, for many other things too, but these would be the proverbial straw. Too childish."

And so it went. 

 

 

v/\v/\v/\v/\v/\v/\v/\v

 

 

By his junior year of college, Dean realized that  _time management_  was something he had little understanding of. Ellen’s business was as booming as ever, and Dean still tried to work whenever he could. For Ellen, and now also at his dad’s garage, but sometimes he just had to say no. Because his classes were kicking his ass. But he liked working, he still needed the cash, and Ellen was finally letting him help with more the cooking and not just prepping dishes and having him set up and serve. He just had to be strategic. 

He tried to be stealthy, when asking if the gigs happened to be Novak family gatherings before either accepting or declining, but he failed, he knew. Ellen started telling him before he had the chance to ask, Jo would smirk, Sam (who had also recently started working with them) would throw him meaningful looks _._  And Charlie just needed to be stopped. 

“Just ask him out already!"

“Charlie, please, I have no idea what you’re talking about."

“Liar liar pants on fire."

“ _Charlie_. That’s not what this is.” It kind of was, maybe, depending on what day he happened to be asked.

“Pretty sure it is if you’re always going out of your way for a chance to flirt with him."

“I do not go out of my way.” He did. “And I do not  _flirt_  with him.” He did. "I just - "

“It’s been three years! And you’ve seen him only maybe a handful of times, but you  _pine_."

“I do not pine.” How dare she. And he’d seen Cas twelve times. Not that he was counting or anything, but there had been six weddings, three rehearsal dinners, a first communion, some miscellaneous family party, and then there was that one time at three am in the cereal aisle of the supermarket. 

That last one was his favorite.

He’d smoked a little too much weed with Benny one night, and they’d eaten all the snacks in their dorm room and he was left with a serious craving for some Frosted Cheerios. 

He was laughing at one of Benny’s jokes that probably wasn’t even funny as they rounded the corner, and there Cas was, ten feet away, holding a box of cereal and squinting at the fine print like it was written in code.

Dean almost didn’t recognize him. It was the supermarket outside of town, closer to where his school was than to where he assumed Cas lived, and how was he supposed to know Cas would be home this weekend and not away at his own school? And it was the only time he’d seen him not dressed in formal wear, but instead in a pair of grey flannel pajama bottoms and a faded yellow t-shirt that said ‘save the honey bees’. ( _Of course_.)

Cas looked up from the box when he heard them giggling around the corner and Dean stopped abruptly when he met those blue eyes. 

Cas’s expression morphed from confused to cheerful in less then a second, smile spreading and eyes crinkling, and Benny somehow knew that this was his cue to make himself scarce.

“Hello Dean."

“Heya Cas. Fancy seeing you here.”

“Midnight snack?"

“Yup. In desperate need of Cheerios.” He pulled a box from the shelf and dissolved in to another fit of giggles when he almost dropped it.

“You alright?"

“Just fine, Cas. Nice outfit, by the way."

“Oh,” he fidgeted nervously. “I didn’t expect to see anyone I knew, so I didn’t - "

“No, I like it. It’s cute.” Oops.

But Cas was smiling at him, whole face lighting up, so he - 

Charlie snapped her fingers in front of his face, cutting the daydream short. “Earth to Dean."

“Sorry,” he mumbled.

“Wow, you are seriously drowning in de-Nile."

“And that was a seriously bad joke."

She just shrugged.

He actually wasn’t in denial. He liked Cas. He just didn’t want anyone to know he did, so it wouldn’t turn into some  _huge thing_. And because he liked the idea of clandestine meetings in the back of parties, while everyone else was obliviously celebrating. He and Cas always found each other by chance in dark corners and had secret conversations over dinner and dessert. They just kept going about their lives, and just happened to keep meeting, like it was fate, it was meant to be, and he was apparently trying to live in a chick flick. (And he was completely okay with that, if it meant that it would all end with him and Cas falling in love. He just wasn’t quite ready to admit it  _out loud_.)

And besides, they were only ever in the same town during the various Novak events. They were busy people. Cas was in his last year of undergrad. Dean was in his third and working two part time jobs. It wouldn’t actually have worked any other way. (Right?) No use clinging to  _what if_ s. 

Which is what he told himself, except Charlie had a point. He went through great pains to make sure their meetings continued to happen, and everyone, it seemed, was aware. 

“Ask. Him. Out. I know for a fact you haven’t been on a date with anyone in over a year. Probably two. That’s some sort of record.”

"How are you even so sure he even likes guys?"

"Because I'm not blind and I've seen you two together? Also I know you wouldn't have let this go on for so long if you didn't know for sure he wasn't straight."

Again, she was right. When he finally got the rest of Cas's  _story for another time_  regarding his date theory, Dean's own theory was proven correct.

Cas told him that if he brought a girl his mother would jump to conclusions and if he brought a guy he would literally be able to feel the disappointment radiating off of her. She would never say anything, but she liked to pretend it was not something that would happen. 

And he'd looked at Dean carefully, a little worried, trying to gauge his reaction to the confession, but Dean had just smiled and tried to subtly work into the conversation that he too swung both ways. It wasn't subtle, he had absolutely no tact, and it was embarrassing all around, but Cas played it off gracefully, and they moved on, continuing to an unrelated conversation with just a little extra excited energy buzzing in the air. 

But much to Charlie’s dismay, he did not ask Cas out when he saw him next, but he did ask for his number. He didn’t really plan on calling, but he wanted to know that he could, if he wanted to. But mostly he was testing a theory. Because Cas giving him his number meant that Cas  _wanted_  him to call, and he hoped that Cas understood that it worked the other way around, and Dean wanted Cas to call him too. 


	3. Chapter 3

Balthazar Novak opted for an extravagant wedding, and according to Cas, anyone who knew him shouldn’t have been the least bit surprised. The reception was held on a yacht, docked at a lake outside of town. 

It was exciting, actually, the change of venue, even if Dean did find the whole idea a bit ridiculous and over the top. But there was fresh air, a starry sky, and Cas was really enjoying himself, which honestly made it even better.

It also happened to be the first wedding since Dean turned twenty-one. While it was far from the first time he drank, it was the first time he drank _with Cas_. And Cas of course did his best to make a big deal about it, not missing the opportunity to tease Dean for being a year younger then him, just because he could, and he steadfastly refused to believe Dean had ever been drunk before. He wanted to be the one to walk him through that right of passage, and they were going to celebrate together.

So Cas nicked a bottle of champagne from behind the bar while Dean grabbed the food and they ran off to find somewhere to hide, which actually proved a bit of a challenge since they were on a boat and not the usual reception hall they knew so well. Not a _small_ boat, exactly, but a boat nonetheless.

Once safe and sound and out of sight Cas made a toast and Dean drank from a glass that he poured for himself while Cas drank straight from the bottle.

“L'chaim! To life!"

“You’re Catholic, Cas. Not Jewish."

“No, my _family_  is Catholic. I’m agnostic, and I happen to like the Hebrew phrase.” He clinked the bottle against Dean’s glass. “To life, Dean."

“To life, Cas."

As much as he loved the idea of getting drunk with Cas, he stopped after one glass, because technically he was working, and while he had no qualms about wandering off and hiding during his shift, he wasn’t going to push it.

He started snacking and Cas kept drinking, and actually it was the first time he’d seen Cas drink more than one glass of anything. Dean was kind of glad he was sober enough to fully appreciate it. Weddings never failed to stress Cas out, but now he was more relaxed that Dean had ever seen him. His face flushed pink as he drank, and every now and then he would hiccup, smile never leaving his face, and his usually sharp comebacks were growing sloppy. Dean was reveling in every second of it. 

They were sitting on the floor of some tiny, mostly empty storage room, leaning against one of the walls, and the only way there was enough room between the boxes for both of them was if they sat close, huddled together, almost touching. But remember, they were on a boat, and it kept swaying ever so slightly with the waves, and it was hardly noticeable, but every so often they’d get a bigger one. Still not really worth paying attention to, except Cas in his almost drunk state, would overreact, but Dean would say nothing about it, because with each one Cas would some how end up scooting closer to him, while dissolving into giggles and leaning into him, or holding onto him for _balance_. Dean was basically melting inside and he knew he had some stupid grin plastered to his face but he couldn’t help it and he didn’t care.  

Eventually Cas got a better handle on things and stopped letting the boat jostle him as much, but he got what he wanted because they remained sitting with their sides pressed together as they ate.

They had roasted potatoes, they had mini burgers (of course), and they each had a slice of peach pie (which Dean had made special with a honey crust). The first two dishes didn’t last long, and as they were finishing up the pie, Cas stared wistfully at the empty burger plate.

“I will do any number of unspeakable things to get my hands on that recipe."

“Mmm. Now _that’s_  a theory that I would like to test."

Cas laughed and Dean could feel him shifting against him, getting more comfortable. Cas was straight up leaning on him, head on his shoulder and Dean was contemplating wrapping an arm around him (but he didn’t). At this point there was no front anymore, and god, Dean really hoped it stayed that way. They’d been dancing around it for too long now. Almost four years. Charlie was right, as much as it pained him to admit it. 

"Ellen would disown me. Family secret."

“But she’s not technically your family."

“Close enough. And  _you’re_ certainly not her family anyway."

“No,” he said thoughtfully, conspiratorially, “but I could be."

“And what is that supposed to mean?"

“Well, this is a wedding reception, we’re on a boat, so there’s a ship captain, and if I married you then that would make me family and you’d be obligated to tell me."

“Oh, god.” He could feel his cheeks heating up even though he knew Cas wasn’t being serious. He just always _sounded_  so serious, and a little part of Dean actually -

“How much of that champagne have you had?” 

Cas sat up straight to reach for the bottle and check. “It’s empty. It’s a good plan though, you have to admit. A little extreme, sure, but this is an any means necessary sort of situation.” 

"Please Cas, you’re killing me here. I have to say this is not exactly where my head went when you said _unspeakable_  -"

“And where did your head go?” He raised an eyebrow.

Dean cleared his throat and tried to ignore him while — 

“You’re blushing, Dean."

— trying to suppress the  _unspeakable_  images, and carried on, "I mean, I know you’re against the institution of marriage on principal, but - "

“There are a few things that could convince me."

“And Ellen’s burgers are at the top of that list?"

He grinned “You better believe it."

“So marry _her_ then."

“No. Bobby would kill me before he’d let that happen. He owns a lot of guns. It has to be you."

“Marry Jo."

He wrinkled his nose. “ _She_  would kill me before letting that happen."

Dean laughed. “She would. And Sam’s smitten with Jess, so I suppose…" 

“I has to be you, Dean.” And he looked over at Dean, leaning forward and gazing up at him with those beautiful blue eyes from beneath long lashes, and a soft smile playing on his lips because he was joking, right?

“You haven’t actually said no."

Dean opened his mouth to say something (anything really), but he had absolutely no idea what and he was just going to wing it. He was usually good at always knowing what to say, but Cas was even better at leaving him speechless.

But he was saved when the door banged open. It was Jo, and her penchant for horrible timing.

“Christ, Dean, have you forgotten that you have an actual job to do?"

He looked up at her sheepishly, trying to ignore the fact that Cas’s eyes were still glued to the side of his face.

“So I’m not allowed to take a break anymore?"

“Sure, ten minutes, but it’s been at least an hour since anyone’s seen you."

Charlie popped up behind her, eyes wide, and tried to pull her away. “Jo, you’re seriously interrupting something here, look at Cas.” She was whispering but Dean could hear her anyway.

“I don’t care. Dean, someone’s concerned about food allergies and needs to know exactly what’s in your pies. Get off your ass."

“Wait a second.” Cas had broken out of his stupor. “ _You_ make the pies?"

Dean stood up and brushed the crumbs off his pants. “Yeah.”

“Can I get _that_  recipe then? _Unspeakable things_ , Dean. Those pies are second only the the burgers.” He was grinning again, kind of smirking, and Dean was treading deep water, trying to ignore Jo’s general impatience and Charlie’s wide eyes as she watched their Moment progress.

“I’m not just going to hand it over, but I’d consider teaching you, if you asked nicely.” And he turned and booked it away before anyone else could comment on the matter, but he heard Cas shout from down the hall. 

“I’m holding you to that, Winchester!"

And Dean really hoped that he would. 

 

 

v/\v/\v/\v/\v/\v/\v/\v 

 

 

The last thing he had wanted was for whatever was going on between him and Cas to become public knowledge before they’d managed to figure it out themselves (they _knew_ , but they’d yet to vocalize it definitively), and yet, that's exactly where it had ended up. 

Everyone knew. Even Ellen had somehow clued in beyond the obvious that Dean was shirking on his duties.

He'd noticed it before, chalked it up to a math error on his part, but now it was too obvious to deny: She had started docking his pay to account for all the missed hours he spent off hiding with Cas. But he started showing up earlier than usual, not to make up the money, but to help with the cooking because he felt like he owed her. He insisted taking over a few of the easier dishes that she trusted him with, in addition to the pies he always made. 

Jo figured it out somehow, and she was the only one not afraid to voice her opinion of the matter. 

“If Dean’s allowed to take an hour long break than I should be too.

“As long as you don’t mind the pay cut."

“What I don’t get any perks for being the boss’s daughter?"

“No, you do not."

And it was dropped, except for Jo’s increased efforts to make his life difficult. But he’d been dealing with varying degrees of that his whole life, so he couldn’t handle it just fine. 

He was just glad Ellen didn't fire him. He would have fired him. And he supposed he should thank her, but then he'd end up caught in a chat about his feelings, so he couldn't. Or maybe if he pointed it out she'd realize the error in her ways. Because Dean honestly couldn't say why she was being so nice about it. Likely she'd just given up on trying to get him to be a professional. Realized it was no use.  (“ _Maybe,_ ” Charlie insisted, “she’s trying to to get in the way of _destiny_.")

Whatever the reason (and he was _not_  listening to Charlie), he was glad, and at the next Novak wedding, he greeted Cas with a newfound cheerfulness. But Cas, for some reason, was not having it.

“So how’d that hangover treat you?"

He came up behind Cas at the buffet and was hardly acknowledged.  

“Sorry?” He was walking down the line of the table, empty plate in hand but not filling it, and he didn’t even look up when Dean spoke. 

“After the boat party? You drank almost an entire bottle of champagne, that had to have hit hard."

“Oh, right. Not that bad actually.” He kept creeping away, a couple of steps further, and the hand that wasn’t holding the plate was tugging the honey bee cuff link on the one that was. 

“Well that’s good.”

Nothing.

“Right?"

“Sure.” And he finally stopped moving at turned to face him, eyes burning holes through Dean for some reason he couldn’t place, and he kept tugging at the cuff link like he was trying to tear it off. “But the one after Hannah’s wedding, I didn’t even bother getting out of bed the next day."

“Hannah’s wedding?” He’d only seen Cas drunk once, at Balthazar’s wedding, on the boat. He never got all the Novak names straight, but this one wasn’t ringing any bells.

“About a month or so after the boat. You weren’t there. Wine was not the brilliant idea I thought it would be.” 

Talk about being hit hard. Dean couldn’t help but feel like he’d unknowingly, unintentionally blown his chance. Some ridiculous chance he’d been clinging to. Something _changed_ at the boat party when Cas drunkenly barreled through the invisible wall of personal space, and all that harmless flirting turned to actual real live flirting. It was going to happen eventually. They both knew it. Or at least that was the _theory_ , but now Cas was looking like he wasn’t so sure they were on the same page.

Because it had been Dean’s turn to make a move, and he didn’t even show up to bat.

Cas was standing stiff and guarded and inwardly fuming, and it was only because Dean knew him so well that he could even tell he was upset. Well, that and the way he kept tugging violently at his sleeve, so much so that he looked like he was going to drop the plate he was holding.

So Dean reached out to stop him. One hand to still Cas’s fingers and the other to take the plate away. 

“C’mon, Cas, you’re going to break something.” 

He set the plate down, but he didn’t move his other hand, and Cas wasn’t moving his, still gripping the cuff link tightly, until Dean gently pried it away while Cas stared.

Then Cas dropped his hand quickly, shoulders slumping. 

”I looked for you, and when I couldn’t find you I asked Charlie where you were but she wasn’t very helpful,” he said quietly. 

Well, that explained the second wind of Charlie’s ‘ask-him-out’ tirade that Dean dutifully ignored. She’d been annoyingly persistent, so why didn't she tell him about this?

“She’s never helpful. And she didn’t say shit to me either, Cas. No one called me to work it."

“Oh."

“Cause I would have been there if I’d known.”

“Okay.”  

Dean smiled at him and Cas started smiling back and he almost added, _because I’d have wanted to see you,_  but he didn't.When did Dean get so bad at this whole thing?

He shook his head at his own cowardice, and muttered, “Damn it, Charlie.” He had to get to the bottom of this. “I’ll be right back, Cas. Don’t disappear, alright?”  

He nodded and Dean ran off to find Charlie and found her already sitting at one of the tables in the back room taking her break. Jo was shuffling around, getting the next wave of dishes ready, and neither looked up when Dean burst into the room.

“Why the hell didn’t anyone tell me about Hannah’s wedding?"

“Because you aren’t pining, so why would it matter,” Charlie said.

“Would you please stop trying to prove whatever whatever theory this is? You know I’m in love with the guy."

Dean clapped a hand over his mouth because he hadn’t meant to say that, in so many words. It was supposed to have been _you know you’re right_  because that barely counts as admitting anything, but his brain short circuited and now it was too late to take it back. (He didn’t want to take it back.)

Charlie jumped out of her chair so fast she knocked it over, and struck a freeze frame victory pose, not even flinching when Jo threw a roll at her.

And Jo was completely unfazed. “You had finals, couldn’t have been there anyway and we didn’t want you to have a panic attack."

“Freaking great."

Then Sam waltzed in, laughing when he saw Charlie, still frozen.

“What did I miss?"

Charlie dropped the statue act, becoming a real person again to announce, a little too loud for Dean’s comfort, “Dean’s in love with Cas!"

Sam just shook his head as he grabbed a new tray from Jo to take back out and headed back towards the door, throwing, “Tell me something I don’t know _,"_  over his shoulder as he went.

“You all suck, you know that?"

“Oh you know you love us,” Jo said with a smirk.

“But not as much as you love Cas!” Charlie added, and the two of them high-fived.

“Fuck off.” And he dove back out into the party.

Things were looking up, the misunderstanding reconciled, as far as he could tell, when he explained the situation to Cas, placing all the blame on Charlie. He didn’t even feel a little bit bad doing so.

It was like it never even happened, and so they stole some food and hid out in the back of the room.

Cas wouldn’t tell him anything about the wedding he missed, even though he asked for all the stories and juicy details. Cas skillfully changed the subject to school (safe, boring), but it didn’t matter. Everything was back on track, and maybe it was better just to ignore the misstep. Any why should it matter when the wall stayed broken and Cas was sitting so close, and their knees kept bumping together? That’s all that was important.

Dean couldn’t help but notice that Cas only ate one burger instead of his usual thousand. He wanted to point it out, but he didn’t want to interrupt, and he was kind of too enraptured by the way Cas was scarfing down a piece of apple pie to form any words.

But then when Cas finished his slice and started trying to steal bites of Dean’s own slice, he couldn’t hold out any longer.

“Hey. Mine.” And he tried to slide the plate out of Cas’s reach, but Cas just chased it with is fork and Dean started laughing too much to put any real effort into keeping it away.

“Cas! Come on, man. If you’re still hungry eat the rest of the burgers you’ve been ignoring."

“Don’t want burgers,” he said as he successfully skewered a bite, grinning triumphantly. “Want pie."

“You, Castiel Novak, who would sell his soul for one of these burgers, is willingly letting them go to waste in favor of pie?” It was one hundred percent something Dean would do, but not Cas.

But Cas just shrugged. “Guess I’m just in the mood for something sweet."

“Never thought I’d see the day."

Cas went for Dean’s pie again. “If you’re not going to finish - "

“Slow the fuck down, Cas. This is my slice and I was never not going to finish it. You know me."

He was still eyeing it hungrily, as Dean cut himself a bite, eating it as slowly as he could just to torture him. “Mine."

But then Cas started _pouting_ at him, and he ended up sharing the rest of it with him. He probably would have anyway, but how could he possibly say no to that face? And please, no one point out the obvious that he could have sent Cas to get himself a second slice. That would have been too practical, too logical, and it would have denied them the chance to fight over who got the last bite.

Obviously, Cas won.  


	4. Chapter 4

Gabriel had finally convinced Kali to tie the knot, and the little shit decided _not_ to hire Ellen to cater. There was no actual dinner at the reception, just all you can eat sweets, desserts, and a gigantic cake courtesy of his favorite bakery, A Slice of Heaven. 

Admittedly, baking was not really Ellen’s thing and Dean took care of most of those she did include on her menu (she _never_ did the cakes), and sure, Gabriel’s diet was basically ninety percent sugar, but Dean was convinced that he didn’t hire her just to spite him. Because Gable likes to meddle, and somehow he knew that Dean had a thing for Cas. (Seriously though, did everyone know? It wasn’t fair and everyone should just _mind their own damn business_.)

It was kind of a fluke that Dean even found out about the wedding in the first place. Sam had started interning (a term which he uses very loosely) at the law firm that Gabriel works at, and a few days beforehand, somewhere between Sam making Gabe’s fourth cappuccino of the day and picking up his dry cleaning, Gabriel just  _happened_ to mention it. 

And not just _oh, my wedding_ , which Sam already knew (but failed to tell Dean) but _oh, my wedding, this Saturday, reception at 7pm at the usual Novak venue, in hall C._  Apparently accompanied with a _look_ , so Sam reluctantly relayed the information to Dean. 

“I think he’s trying to bait you,” Sam added.

“Bait me to do what? Dislike him? Already there."

Sam just rolled his eyes. 

But it was enough, the seed was planted, and Dean thought that maybe he should go. To Gabriel’s wedding reception. Because he wanted to see Cas, and also make it up to him for missing Hannah’s. He was pretty sure there were no rules left in their game. Wasn’t really much of a game at all anymore, and he was okay with that.

He didn't actually tell Sam his plan, but the kid’s a smart one, because he figured it out and gave Dean shit for it right up until he was walking out the door Saturday evening.

“Jesus Christ, Dean, you’ve got it bad."

And he could have denied it, but “Yeah, thanks, but that’s already been established. Bitch.”

He let the door swing shut on Sam’s “ _jerk_ ”.

Dean thought he’d actually have to _sneak_ in but he just walked right up and into the room and no one even spared him a glance. He hovered around the dessert spread, kind of scouting for Cas, kind of trying to blend in and wound up distractedly wolfing down a plate of cake.

It didn’t take long for Cas to find him.

“I feel like I should be surprised to see you here, but I’m not.” Yet he couldn’t quite hide the fact that he actually did look surprised, trying to cover it up with a discerning gaze.

Dean just grinned and handed him a plate of cake. “Did you miss me?"

"You wish."

“That hurts, Cas." 

“Well - "

Then a little kid appeared out of nowhere, grabbed the cake from Cas's hands took off, yelling, “Mine!"

"Shit. That’s Jonah, Michael’s spawn. He’s on a sugar high from _three_  pieces of cake he wasn’t supposed to eat and I’m stuck watching him for the next half hour. And he’s - “ His eyes grew wider as he watched as Jonah tripped while weaving between guests and the plate of cake flew through the air and splattered on the floor. “Oh no, I have to…” He started walking away, flustered, then glanced over his shoulder at Dean and added, “Don’t go anywhere."

“Wouldn’t dream of it."

Cas had completely disappeared into the crowd, and Dean bided his time with a second piece of cake until, inevitably, Gabriel found him. 

“I don’t remember inviting you, Deano."

“I don’t remember you being such a dick. Oh wait."

“Touche. Cas is on babysitting duty at the moment, but I’ll let him know you’re here."

Dean glared. “He already knows I’m here."

Gabe smirked. “Of course he does.”  And then he reached out to get a swipe of frosting off the cake on Dean’s plate, then licked it off his finger.

“Gross. I can’t finish this now.” So Gabe just took the whole plate from him.

“You know,” he said, "I was testing a theory, telling Sam the details about the wedding. You are oh-so-predicible, Dean.” And he turned to walk away. 

“You Novaks and your goddamn theories,” Dean muttered. “Even got me doing it sometimes."

“Ha. Welcome to the family, Dean.” 

So everyone already knew he was here, but the encounter with Gabe left him with the urge to hide, as he usually does at these things, except this was _different_ , so he knew it was silly. And if he hid, then Cas wouldn’t be able to find him again. 

Except that he probably would. All of the best hiding spots they’ve had over the years, Cas had been the one to find.

When Cas finally ridded himself of Jonah and caught up with Dean again, he silently grabbed himself a slice of cake and motioned for Dean to follow him. He sat at a  _table,_  which was all kinds of wrong, and Dean hesitated before sitting next to him, perched uncomfortably on the edge of the chair while Cas lounged in his.

“This is weird,” he said.

“Relax, Dean. Jo is not crouching behind you ready to strike at the least convenient moment."

“Still feels like I’m breaking some sort of rule."

“You’re allowed to be here. I give you permission."

Dean snorted as he sank back into the chair. “Right, cause that’s what I was waiting for."

Cas smirked around his fork. “Well apparently it was."

“Shut up."

“Nice, isn’t it? Sitting at an actual table like civilized people."

“But the real question is _is it as_ _fun_?"

“No,” Cas conceded, "it is not."

And then for no explicable reason Dean reached over and swiped some frosting from Cas’s plate. Gabe was being a dick when he did it to him, but Dean was being _cute_ , evidenced in the way that Cas was laughing at him and shaking his head as he licked it off his finger.

Cas ate, and Dean leaned back in his chair and scanned the room. “It’s a whole new world from this perspective.” _Or maybe not so much_ , when he saw red hair making a beeline for them. _Dammit, Charlie_ , but then he realized that he did not recognize this girl, and suddenly she was standing fight in front of them. 

“Castiel. Gabriel informed me that you brought a _date_ that you didn’t tell me about."

Damn, they should have hid. She was addressing Cas but staring Dean down while he squirmed in his seat, unsure what to do or say, and he knew his expression was frozen in  _deer in headlights_.

“Anna, this is Dean. Dean, Anna.” Cas said, unfazed.

She stuck out a hand for him to shake. “Nice to finally meet you. I’d have said hello sooner - “ she threw a glare at Cas “ - if this one had told me you were coming."

“Yeah, don’t worry about it,” he said, as he shook, still unsure of the situation, though Cas was watching him a little anxiously now, waiting to see how he’d play it, so, “That would have been a tough one considering he didn’t even know I’d be here."

She dropped her hand and glanced back to Cas, who sighed and said, “It was very last minute, Anna, and I assure you I meant no offense. But if you’d like to blame someone I suggest Gabriel."

“Sure, I can do that.” And then she leaned nearer to him and whispered, presumably so Dean wouldn’t hear, though he did anyway. “Does mom know?"

“No,” Cas said just as quietly, “Can we keep it that way?"

“Of course.” She stood up straight again. “Well, it was nice to see you Dean, but I must get back to the revelry.”

Dean watched her go, hesitant to look back at Cas because he was still stuck in realm of _uncomfortable_ , thanks to the blatant disregard of their (previously) important, but (currently) crumbling, rule. _You do not talk about fight club._ The lines had been blurring like crazy recently, but Dean still hadn’t fully adjusted. 

But they both knew what this was. At least, Dean thought so, and when he looked back at Cas his cheeks were tinged slightly pink, and he was scraping his empty plate with his fork, and he said -

“It was easier than explaining. If her assumption bothers you, I can - "

“It doesn’t bother me,” Dean said, perhaps a little too quickly, and Cas started fighting back a smile.

Dean knew he was a coward ( _still_ ), and he could hear Charlie’s voice in his head, yelling _this is your moment_  and could practically see her waving some flashing neon sign saying something ridiculously blunt and punny like _if you were waiting for a sign..._  

But he just kept staring at Cas, who finally looked up from his plate and broke into a wide grin, eyes sparkling and Dean knew he was stupidly mirroring the look back at him, and all chances of him manning up and forming any sort of coherent sentence had flown directly out the window of opportunity that immediately shut itself upon exit. 

But  _something_ needed to be said, the silence stretching a little too long, and all he had was, “Uhh, cake. More cake. You want more cake, Cas?” and he got up to run away.

“Sure, Dean."

He didn’t actually want more cake, but there was nothing to do about it now. He could have taken the leap, but he didn’t. And hindsight is twenty-twenty, so the moment he walked away he regretted it. He’d always thought  _no reason to try and fix something that wasn't broken_ , he really should aim a little higher. Especially when it wasn’t even out of reach. 

He returned to Cas chatting with some cousin (presumably) who thankfully didn’t bother to acknowledge Dean when he sat back down and slid Cas a plate of cake.

Dean started eating his own slice while he waited for them to finish, and when it was finally just the two of them again he said, “As much as I’d like to punch Gabe for betraying my catering, I have to admit this cake is pretty damn good."

“It’s okay,” Cas replied, starting on his own piece.

“Just _okay_? You really that hard to please?"

“Don’t get me wrong,” he said. "It’s good, for cake, but it’s got nothing on your pies."

_Dean's_ pies. He could feel his face absolutely glowing red, and he was doing his best to act cool and keep his head up and looking forward, but he could see Cas watching him from the side of his eyes, grinning mischievously because he knew exactly what he was saying.

But Dean had let himself be one-upped too many times already that evening, so _screw you Cas_ , not this time, and he tried to say something clever, but he fumbled and it failed. (It was so bad it’s not even worth mentioning.) But Cas laughed and spared him the trouble of recovery by changing the subject.

They sat and talked the rest of the night. Gabe popped back over and said something about how they should get off their asses and dance, but Cas scared him off, and they ended up staying well past when most of the guests had left. And because Anna left Cas stranded, Dean drove him home.

When he pulled up in front of his house, he almost felt like he should kiss Cas goodnight, because this was pretty much a date, in everything but name. (Or, actually in name? If Anna was right.) Cas lingered with his hand hovering over the door handle and gazing out the window, while Dean replayed the conversation in his head looking for any clues he’d missed.

"I'm really glad you came tonight, Dean."

Cas still didn't move, probably waiting for Dean to say goodnight (or _anything_ really) but his brain was still stuck in a loop. But maybe they had been like this for ten minutes (but probably less than one), and because there was nothing left to do, Dean reached over and placed his hand tentatively on Cas’s shoulder and asked, “So… was this a date?"

Cas looked over at him, finally, expression like he was trying to mentally calculate the infinite size of the universe and he just couldn’t do it, and he said, “ _I don’t know._ "

And before Dean could ask him what that _meant_ , Cas made it all the more confusing (but so much better) when he leaned over and gave Dean an impossibly fast kiss on the cheek, then let himself out of the car before Dean had a chance to register what had happened.

 

 

v/\v/\v/\v/\v/\v/\v/\v

 

 

Cas was especially disgruntled at the family reunion, because unlike a wedding, where the focus stayed on the happy couple (while only _reminding_ him of his impeding doom), it had somehow shifted directly to him. _What have you been up to, what do you plan to do with your life, so many weddings when will it be your turn?_  


He thought he’d prolonged the inevitable, going to grad school. His mother’s implied deadline of graduation put off another two years. But he seemed to be the only Novak not in a serious relationship or engaged. He was nearly  _twenty four_  and _single_. Scandal.

Dean watched Cas answer politely, but he could tell he was screaming internally, lots of _I don’t know’_ s and a big _fuck you_. 

When Cas finally caught up with Dean after the series of interrogations, all he had to say was, “That’s it, I’m going underground. I’m hibernating, and you can wake me up when it’s my turn to reign."

“You plan to rule without a queen then?"

Cas snorted. “Not you too, you’re supposed to be on my side. But yes, I don’t give a shit about their antiquated ideals. And if I get my way I’ll be ruling with another king.” Dean grinned at the amendment as Cas continued. "Now can we please get the hell out of here?” And he grabbed Dean by the shoulders and started leading him away.  

The family reunion was an entirely different breed of Novak event, which Dean thoroughly enjoyed, despite Cas’s dismay. First of all, the whole thing was ridiculous and superfluous, considering the Novaks already gathered in large quantities several times a year, but more importantly, it wasn’t held at a reception hall, but at Cas’s _house_. 

Which meant that Cas was already there when they arrived early to set up and cook. Cas took it upon himself to show them to the kitchen, and Dean was unnecessarily giddy and bouncing around while he worked because he was in Cas’s kitchen. Baking pies in Cas’s oven. And the whole time, Cas kept ducking in and out, hovering over his shoulder whenever he could get away with it and pretending to help. Mostly, when Ellen stepped out, and preferably when Jo was gone too, because Cas was kind of scared of her (as was everyone). 

He gave tours of the excessively large kitchen, pointed out where everything was in the cabinets, gave in depth instructions on how to use all the fancy appliances even though they were actually pretty easy to figure out (or unneeded) and he kept offering to _helphelphelp_. He would be talking to everyone, but he’d throw Dean looks ad smiles the whole time, little touches as he walked past him, and Dean would wink and slip him little tastes of whatever he was making when he thought no one was looking.

There was always someone looking. Charlie, Sam, or Jo, who would squeal, cough, or gag, respectively.

But Dean didn’t _care_. He was in Cas’s _house_. Where he grew up, where he lived, where he slept.

And it was practically a mansion. When he’d dropped Cas off after Gabe’s wedding he hadn’t noticed. It was too dark and he was too nervous to focus on anything but Cas. He knew the Novaks were well off but this was a little extreme. 

So now he was following Cas away from the party and the relatives and up a set of stairs and past a multitude of doorways.

“Where are we going?"

“My room."

Dean was not letting his imagination get away from him. “Don’t you think that’ll be the first place they’ll look when they realize you’ve ditched?"

“Oh, they’ll know exactly where I am, but it’d be too much work for them to chase me down, so it doesn’t matter."

Another set of stairs. 

“God I feel like we’re in a castle or something."

“More or less."

“Are there any secret passages or hidden rooms?"

“Of course."

“I didn’t even know there were any houses like this around here."

“There really shouldn’t be. Sticks out like a sore thumb."

They turned down yet another hallway.

“Man, I can’t believe you grew up here."

“It’s really not a big deal."

They reached the end of the hall where Cas climbed up on a strategically placed chair and tugged on a chain opening a trapdoor.

“You’ve got to be kidding me."

“Hope you don’t have a problem with ladders."

“You live in a castle, but you’ve been banished to the attic? How does that happen?"

“By choice.” He started climbing. “I have three hundred siblings, Dean. I couldn’t even name all of them if tried. There came a time when we outnumbered the rooms allocated as bedrooms, and they wanted me to share with Gabriel."

“But you don’t have a death wish, so - "

“Exactly.” He was all the way up, sticking his head over the edge to talk to Dean, who was still standing in the hall, processing. "Neither of us wanted that, so I tricked them into letting me have the attic."

“You _tricked_ them?"

“Yes. Long story. Now are you coming up here, or what?"

“Oh I’m coming. I need to see this."

He climbed the ladder and hauled himself into the room when he reached the top. Cas started pulling up the ladder as Dean looked around and took in the room that was so undeniably _Cas_. 

It was big for an attic, though after seeing the rest of the house that wasn’t surprising. The walls and floor and ceiling were all wood, making the room feel cozy and warm and almost like they were inside a tree house. And four floors up, the tiny attic windows showed nothing but bright blue sky.

The quilt on the bed below one window was blue to match, and there was a trench coat thrown across the mattress, even though it was the middle of summer and Cas probably hadn’t worn it for months. But the attic didn’t exactly have a closet, so maybe there was no where better for it to be. 

A bookshelf against the far wall was literally overflowing with books, with stacks on the floor in front of it and beside it, as well as littered all around the room.

Overall the room was sparsely decorated, because Cas wasn’t he type to go over the top, and honestly the room felt homey enough without it. But there was a rust orange rug on the floor and a Zeppelin poster on one wall, which actually caught Dean by surprise, because how had he not known Cas liked Zeppelin? Seriously, how had that not come up at least once in six years.

He knew that every single pair of socks Cas owned was purple (various shades), but he didn’t know his music taste. For shame.

Dean was looking around the room, slowly taking it all in, while Cas watched him, hands in his pockets, and standing on the trapdoor.

“Dude, don’t stand on the door, what if it breaks?"

Cas just stared, then jumped, landing hard, and Dean flinched.

“Dick."

Cas laughed and went over to sit on the bed, leaning back on his hands.

“I used to be afraid of that too, until Gabriel did that same thing to me."

“Is he really the Novak you want to imitate?"

“There are no Novaks I want to imitate, you know this. But even despite Gabriel’s flair for the dramatic, he can be funny if he wants to be."

“Do we need to have a discussion on the definition of funny?” Dean asked, walking over towards Cas and leaning against the desk.

“No, Dean,” he said solemnly, “we do not. I’m studying language and I know what words mean.” And then brightly, “I’m only here for the summer and them I’m getting an apartment near school for my last year. Officially moving out for good."

“Congrats. And how far away is school again?” He started tapping his fingers on the desk.

 Cas smiled. “Only an hour. And I have a car. That works at least most of the time."

“You know I can fix that for you?"

He nodded. “And,” he added, “ _you_ have a car, too."

They were always making plans that never had any _followthrough,_ goddammit, but Dean smiled anyway, played along. “I do. So it sounds like you’re - " and then he saw it. “Hey, is that…?"

It was. The dollar store honey bee toy he gave Cas years ago, sitting on his desk between a pile of books and his laptop. A little dirty, and paint scratched, like maybe it hadn’t just been sitting on the desk completely forgotten, but made the trip back and forth to school when he was in the dorms. 

“I can’t believe you kept this.” He picked it up, held it in front of him, resting in his open palm.

“It was a gift.” Cas got up from the bed and stood in front of him, almost too close. 

“It was ninety-eight cents, and we barely knew each other."

“You made me pie."

“I make all the pies."

“Maybe. But that one was for me."

And Dean looked up from the bee and into Cas’s blue eyes, right in front of him, and - 

“Yeah, it was."

Cas smiled at him and reached to take the toy, fingers brushing against Dean’s palm and _lingering_ before he set the bee back on the desk. But he didn’t move away, still so close, and Dean thought maybe Cas was going to kiss him for real this time, but instead he spoke.

“Do you want to go on the roof?"

“What?"

“The roof.” And then he was gone, already prying the window open.

From their bird’s eye view on the roof they could see the entire party unfolding in the backyard (but no one down there could see them) and it was perfect. They’d grown accustomed to hiding at parties rather than joining them, but this vantage point let them do both, almost, still on the periphery.

They were sitting close (of course), bumping shoulders, as Cas pointed down to all the Novaks and told Dean horror stories from his childhood. And that one time when he was fifteen, Anna banned him from sitting on the roof because she took him seriously when he told her he could fly, and she was afraid he would jump. And then out of nowhere he told Dean that the night of Gabe’s wedding did not count as a date.

Because Dean had shown up unannounced, and neither of them had _asked the other out_ , and these details were important. Cas was about to have a master’s degree in language, and he could not ignore a simple definition. These things do not a date make.

Nothing about how he didn’t want it to be a date, nothing to imply that he wouldn’t be open to one. Just that he couldn’t, in good conscience, refer to that particular night as a _date_. 

They stayed on the roof until the sun started to set, and ignoring Dean’s protests that he wanted to watch it sink all the way, Cas ushered them back inside before it would be too dark to find their footing. And then he led them down five hundred staircases and through a maze of hallways to get back outside, on the lawn.

Dean had already come to terms with the fact that Ellen would be paying him practically nothing for this party, but he didn’t care. Even back on the ground he spent more time chasing after Cas than actually doing anything that even remotely resembled his job.

But Ellen finally caught up with him just in time to help clean up, and he thought Cas was right behind him but when he turned around to say goodbye he found that Cas had already been sucked into the herd of departing Novaks to say his own goodbyes.

 

  

v/\v/\v/\v/\v/\v/\v/\v

 

  

All good things must come to an end. Dean had officially entered the era of his life where he was no longer allowed to _not know_ what he was doing. He liked that sweet blissful innocence (or the illusion of it) that came with adolescence. He liked knowing that there was always _more time_  and that _later_  remained in the goddamned future. But that countdown had ended. 

Dean had officially been a college graduate for a few months but it was just hitting him now. And he kind of wanted to blame Cas for reminding him. Cas, who was moving out and getting his life together while _still in school._  But Dean had graduated, still living in the the same house, same room he’d been in all his life, same town, same _job_ , and no real plan to change any of that.

But maybe he should have one? _If you could do anything,_ Cas had asked him years ago, and his answer hadn't changed. 

The only thing he could say for sure that he wanted was _Cas_ , and maybe that was enough for now. If he could just take that one step. 

But still he felt like this mess was Cas’s _fault_ , so he took another jump back in time, and when he showed up to Anna’s wedding reception he greeted Cas with, “I’m blaming you."

And and this time Cas just shrugged. “Of course you are."

And that was it, the matter was dropped and there was no need to take it any further.

Except Dean thought that maybe he’d somehow offended him anyway, because one minute Cas would be leaning into him, whispering nonsense  in his ear, and then the next he’d be just out of reach, staring into space and not hearing a thing Dean said.

Dean was afraid to call attention to it, and maybe it was his own fault anyway, a little too lost in thought, trying to work up the courage to say something important. To ask Cas out on a real date. Not the sort of BS plans they were always pretending to make, but something real and concrete than he intended to keep. 

They weren’t hiding so much this time, just wandering around, not staying in any one place long enough to be noticed and Dean guessed it was because Cas actually liked Anna. That he was genuinely happy for her and didn't want to miss her big night by hiding around corners or under tables. He was sentimental in times like these, when it was someone or something he actually cared about, so he let the ice melt.

Dean could see the thaw reflected in his eyes, from cold winter blue to summer sky blue. He could see it when Cas looked over at him and smiled, softly and oh so warmly, as they hovered on the edge of the dance floor, ready to watch the happy couple’s first dance. 

And they stuck around when the dance ended, for a few songs, because they were so cute as they spun around the floor, unaware of all the eyes on them. They stuck around because there wasn’t much else to do and at this point in the night they didn’t have much to say to each other (how did that happen?). Dean hadn’t found the right moment to speak his piece, and Cas had started drifting away again. 

The DJ was playing some sappy Sam Cooke song that Dean was pretending he didn't know by heart. Cas had started swaying ever so slightly as soon as it started playing, so Dean knew he liked the song too. The lights that were set up behind Cas outlined him in glowing gold, had Dean mesmerized. Cas glanced over at him, opened his mouth to say something but then stopped himself, then looked down at his shoes.

Dean didn’t even have to think about what he did next. He leaned over, placed a hand on Cas arm and asked, “Do you want to dance?"

Cas couldn’t hide the surprise that flashed across his face fast enough that Dean didn’t notice it.

“I believe I told you the first night we met that I don’t dance.” 

“That was specific to line dancing, which is something I wouldn't force upon my worst enemy.” Though it was true that he’d never seen Cas dance at any of these events, but he assumed it was because he was too busy talking to Dean.

“C’mon, Cas. There’s only like a minute left in this song. Won’t kill you."

He let his hand slide down Cas’s arm and take his hand, pulling him out towards the dance floor and Cas smiled and let him. As soon as they’d made it into the mass of dancers and Dean turned to face him again, Cas surged forward and threw his arms around Dean’s neck and buried his face in his shoulder, and Dean could feel him smiling against his collar as he wrapped his arms around Cas’s waist.

As far as Dean was concerned, this was the definition of a perfect moment. He didn’t want it to end and was convinced nothing else would ever compare. 

He caught a glimpse of Charlie’s bright red hair running over and whispering something to the DJ before he closed his eyes and tightened his grip. He suspected she was the reason a second Sam Cooke song played after that one, and he would have to remember to thank her later. They’d barely caught the tail end of the first one and it wasn’t nearly enough. 

Inevitably though, it ended. There was a few seconds of silence in which they stood there, still leaning against each other, reluctant to move, but then the next song started playing and they both groaned.

Dean would never understand DJs and their terrible transitions, or their terrible music in general. This one lost all the points he’d gotten for Sam Cooke as soon as the YMCA started blaring form the speakers.

Cas was pulling away, but Dean wasn’t ready for that quite yet, but neither was he going to subject either of them to line dancing, so instead he wrapped an arm around Cas’s shoulders and started directing them quickly towards the nearest exit. 

They ran right past Ellen who almost looked like she wanted to tell him to get back to work, but he grinned at her and glanced at Cas, and she just shook her head with a smile and let him go.

The escaped through the back exit, Dean worried a second too late they were going to set of an alarm when he pushed the door, but they made it out.

The courtyard was empty except for the two of them. 

He let his arm slip from Cas’s shoulders but kept close as they walked, arms and fingers brushing against each other.

Dean was riding some kind of nervous high and he wanted to say something but thought it best to wait for Cas to speak. He’d being going off script all evening. For now he was content to wander the courtyard in silence, beneath the stars and the trees, with Cas at his side, past the flower beds and buzzing bees that made them both smile.

“This is the last Novak wedding."

Content until Cas hit him with that fucking sledgehammer.

“What?"

Cas got a few steps ahead before he realized Dean had completely stopped in his tracks, so he turned back to face him.

“This is it. Anna’s the last one. Other than me, and we all know that’s not going to happen."

For whatever reason his mouth didn’t consult his brain before it started moving. “It could happen."

Cas just laughed. “But that’s not the same thing, at all, is it?"

“No, I guess it’s not."

“I just wanted to say thank you for saving me from what probably would have been a life-threatening amount of boredom and small talk."

“It was my pleasure."

“So let’s make this last one count. If it’s to be farewell."

All good things must come to an end. But who decided that?

Dean took a step closer to Cas. “I’m all for making it count, but c’mon Cas, this isn't _farewell_."

“No?"

“No. I’ve had your number in my phone for years, and _maybe_ instead of just staring at it for hours at a time, I’ll actually dial."

“Well,” Cas said as he too took a step closer, “ _maybe_ I’ll answer."

“And you know, you’ve got my number too."

Cas laughed and shook his head. “You know I almost called you from Hannah’s wedding, when you didn’t show. But I was spectacularly drunk and Gabriel took my phone away from me before I could do anything stupid."

Dean took another half step. “I’d have loved to be your drunk dial, Cas.” And he reached forward to take Cas’s hands in his, started lacing their fingers together. They were speaking in hushed tones now, so close that their voices didn’t need to carry far at all.

“Probably not that particular one. Maybe next time."

“Why not? You made a really cute drunk at the boat party."

“Maybe,” he started chewing on his bottom lip before continuing, dropping Dean’s gaze. “But I was upset when you didn’t show because I thought you hated me."

“Could never hate you, Cas. I just didn’t know about it."

“I know that now, but… If you recall the time before, on the boat, I kind of drunkenly proposed, except I was only half joking."

_He fucking knew it_. Dean shook his head with a little laugh and moved even closer, leaned forward so their foreheads were pressed together.

“I thought I freaked you out.”

Dean laughed. “Ahh, Cas. What am I going to do with you."

“Pretty much anything you want."

“Well, if that’s the way you’re going to play it, I would very much like to kiss you right now."

“I’ll allow it."

It was no where near perfect, which was exactly what made it perfect. He couldn’t feel anything except for Cas’s lips on his, soft and sweet and all too brief. There were no fireworks like books and movies always imply, no earth shattering revelations, and yeah, sure, he was pretty sure his life was going to be entirely different from here on out, but it’d been years in the making. It had all been leading up to this, and everyone knew it. He knew it, Cas knew it, and now they were standing there, inches apart, in each other’s space, breathing each other’s air, fingers fitted together like puzzle pieces. This was always where they were going to end up, but it just took a while, because somethings are hard to say out loud even when they're true.

“So."

“So."

This was always where they were going to end up, they’d known it all along, only now that they’d gotten there, they realized that neither of them had given any thought as to _what now._

They could hear the music drifting from the hall and into the courtyard. Something better than the horrific selection they’d run from, but it was too quiet from where they stood to know for sure what it was. Didn’t matter. 

Because for all intents and purposes they were in their own little world now, not a part of the party (as usual), but not because they were hiding this time, but because they’d found something better. And even though Cas hated all the weddings, Dean couldn’t. Because this was worth all of it, all the years, and all the time it took to get here. 

So what does happen now?

Cas is inclined to think _happily every after_ , and even though he’s never believed in such a thing, Dean could very well be the one to convince him otherwise. But Dean is partial to _not_ thinking that way because _happily ever after_ implies an ending, implies that what happens next is not worth the time it would take to write, when really it’s the other way around. 

But they’ve both got this theory that it can only get better from here, and they can’t wait to prove it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And we're done! (This was supposed to be a 5k max fluff break from my angst-fest DCBB, but then it kind of got away from me...)
> 
>  **Thank you all for reading** , I really hope you enjoyed it. I had a lot of fun writing this, and it's officially the longest piece I've actually managed to _finish_ (either fic or original project). 
> 
> (If you are so inclined, any sort of comments/(constructive) criticism would be appreciated.)
> 
> [tumblr.](http://slayerandtheslayerettes.tumblr.com) (come talk to me.)


End file.
